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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25953577">Can't do shit, now can I?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_u_Z_u/pseuds/S_u_Z_u'>S_u_Z_u</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal, Botton John Marston, Explicit Sexual Content, Fingering, Hunting, Hurt John Marston, M/M, No Beta, Sex in the woods, Spanking, Top Arthur Morgan, just porn, no real plot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:00:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,097</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25953577</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_u_Z_u/pseuds/S_u_Z_u</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a quick drabble of John and Arthur.</p><p>The gang antagonize John a little too much at the campfire and John's had enough. Subsequently, he gets lost in the woods trying to prove them wrong and it's good ol' Arthur that finds him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John Marston/Arthur Morgan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>117</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Can't do shit, now can I?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey y'all. </p><p>So I've just started playing Red Dead Redemption 2 and I just had to write this. I knew of this ship before I ever played the game, but now that I'm meeting all the characters, inspiration hit.</p><p>Plus, I totally have a thing for the wild west.</p><p>Anyway, enjoy my silly drabble. Don't know if anyone even keeps up with this fandom anymore but here ya go!</p><p>PS: sorry for any grammar issues, I did my best to get them all but I always miss one or two</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Twice now the sun has risen over his poor head and John thinks it’s about time he admits that he’s lost. Real lost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not long after that, John starts shootin’ curses at the heavens, placing blame on every one of them sons a’ bitches back at the camp for pushing John into his current predicament. If they learned to ever keep their mouths shut, John wouldn’t have had to put himself into this mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It all started at the campfire two nights prior. Bill and Arthur had returned from a major job and brought with them heavy wallets and cases of provisions and drink. The only logical next step was to celebrate and thus, all the members of the Van Der Linde gang had bottles of Gin and Kentucky Bourbon in their hands and laughter spilling from their bellies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon enough, Bill was teetering left and right off the log in front of the fire and regaling the crowd with stories of the past. There were many a job gone wrong back when they started this tomfoolery of theirs, but anytime Arthur happened to be around, Bill would conclude those stories by crowning him their knight in shining armor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John had rolled his eyes when he heard it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure, Arthur was a hero. Hero, his ass. That bastard just had good timing, is all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More drink was drank and more stories were told until people were holding their bellies and spitting out sips from their mouths as Bill choked through stories of hunts gone sideways, waving his arms around like some circus monger as he described escapes from wild beasts. Even John couldn’t hold back peels of laughter when Hosea chimed in with a tale of Uncle running from a rouge deer with his pants around his ankles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But what happened to be a joyful night inevitably turned sour when Arthur, watching John over the fire with an aggravating smirk that always served to rile him up, chimed in with his own stories. The first few were tame, poking fun at Bill and Lenny for their lost kills in the mountains, but it didn’t take long before it was John on the hot seat. Arthur made a throwaway comment, tellin’ John he best work on his aim if he hoped to ever catch something, and that’s all the fuel needed to start the fire amongst the campers. John was used to being antagonized. He’d always been an easy target for their banter, but this wasn’t just the guys anymore. Everyone at the camp decided it’d be fun to get on his case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>People started to rat on him for his lack of skill with a weapon, gun and bow alike, and accusing him of being lazy and unfocused. It didn’t even feel like jokes no more when they brought up his time on the mountain where he “let” himself get mauled by a wolf, some even laughing while they said that the scars on his face was the least that the deserved for being so stupid. John fought back, of course, his defenses rising, but their voices were louder and easily layered over his. Bill and Hosea bellowed over old stories of John as a child, falling flat on his face when he tried to sneak up on a rabbit and scaring the damn thing away, and the girls gossiped and laughed right along with them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Abigail pitched in, making an off handed remark about his failings as a provider and that he couldn’t even catch a dead squirrel if it was sitting right in front of him, John felt a sinking in his gut and any buzz from his whiskey dried up in a flash. Her statement was far too serious and far too cruel for his liking. John shut his mouth right then and there and gave up on talking back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright! Give the boy a break now, ya hear?” Arthur’s voice boomed over everyone elses and he stepped forward waving his arms. People groaned at their spoiled fun and Bill staggered over to the man and used the older man’s shoulder for balance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur, don’t spoil the fun! Johnny boy knows we’re joking, don’t ya?” The drunk man raised his bottle to John, but he was ignored in favor of John frowning further at them both.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John was roughly elbowed by Sean, the Irish bastard, but he didn’t say nothing to agree. Instead John turned his eyes fully to meet Arthur’s peculiar frown with a glare and pushed himself up from his seat, walkin’ away without a word. There were howls and drunken calls for him, insincere apologies framed by giggles that fell flat, but John had enough of being their plaything. He marched himself over to the tree line and downed the rest of his bottle, numbing his frustrations for the stupid blonde man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John dozed off at some point and when he woke, it was with a fuzzy head, a simmering frustration, and one hell of a stupid idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John was gonna hunt and prove them wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time he had grabbed his gear, saddled his horse, and rode off to the east, the sun was just peaking over the tree line and everyone must have only been waking up at the camp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that is the story of how John landed where he is, lost in the middle of the woods with only a few rations in his satchel, a small skin of water over his shoulder, bow on his back and his revolver at his hip. He hitched his horse just along the tree line a days back, but John isn’t sure he’s ever gonna find her at this rate. He’s already lost sight of the tracks he had been following, and there are no signs of anything else livin’ nearby. It was just him and the trees and the mocking faces of the Van Der Linde gang swimming in his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John collapses against a tree, sinking down to the ground floor and dropping his head back against the bark. The ache in his feet starts to thrum in his boots and John can’t stop himself from the pity party he is about to start.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Here he is, trying to prove himself capable, and all he did was prove them right. Apparently, John </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> useless and should have been dropped off on the side of the road and forgotten about long ago. Hell, Dutch has got Arthur, doesn’t he? The hell does he need John for? Arthur has been carrying their group since day one, saving everyone’s asses left and right, and bringing in the most goods to keep them afloat. John never thought he’d admit it but Arthur is as close to the camp’s hero as he can get.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John? Well, he’s done jack shit. He’s tried, dammit, but clearly that hasn’t done much. All he’s got is Abigail and Jack, and they aren’t even his. Abigail wants nothing to do with him ‘cept provide for her even though she ain’t his wife and Jack ain’t his kid. He doesn’t know how he got roped into that but now he’s stuck with it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He starts to wonder if it’s even worth going back to the camp, that is, if he ever makes it out of here, but then he thinks of his year away and knows he’ll have to go back. It seems like the only thing he is good at is causing pain and he’d like to avoid doing that again if he can.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Resigned to his only option and knowing that sittin’ around ain’t doing much to help him, John pulls himself back up and starts to venture further through the woods, hoping to pick up on a set of tracks and find his way out. By the time the sun starts to go down, John still hasn’t found nothing. No tracks, no people, no way out. At this point, John is beyond irritable and his whole body aches. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s about time he starts to look around for a bearable spot to set up a small camp. The exhaustion is catching up to him and he figures a moments rest might help clear his head. Maybe then he can find his way back to his horse and try hunting something else so at least he can bring </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> back and not look like he’s run away. Everything’s gonna end up a lot worse for him if he comes back empty handed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John gets a small fire going after collecting some wood and settles himself on a soft patch of grass. He’s comfortable under the gentle breeze and the crackling warmth of the fire, and there’s a break in the treetops that lets him look into the night sky and count the stars. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lying there with only the sounds of the fire to keep him company in the otherwise silent woods, John prays he can find his way out by tomorrow. He really dug himself a grave with this one, especially now that he’s running low on supplies and there’s not a hope in hell for him to find an animal anytime soon. Jesus, he really is an idiot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John rolls onto his side and rests his head on his arm, blinking at the flames before closing them entirely. It takes a bit for sleep to slither on by and it’s a fitful one to boot, but John eventually manages a few hours. Come mornin’, he’ll get things figured out… hopefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John groans to himself and throws an arm over his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stupid.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“John? Boy, wake up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a rough shake to his shoulder and John bolts upright, hand diving for his gun but something wraps quick around his wrist before he can reach. He’s about ready to struggle, throw a punch even, but his eyes land on blonde wisps of hair and that all too familiar oil and dirt stained, hay colored coat, and John knows </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> who woke him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The hell, Arthur!? How the hell did you find me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With the way you walk, anyone could spot your tracks from a mile away. Took me a bit to find you though, you sure cover ground fast. No wonder you got yourself lost.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John takes a swing then, using his free hand to smack at Arthur’s arm, but the older man easily maneuvers out of the way, laughin’ and smiling like nothing’s out of place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be like that, kid. If that weren’t the case, we may have actually lost you this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I ain’t lost!” Arthur quirks an eyebrow, clearly not believing him but John ignores him, ”and I ain’t a kid, dammit!” He roughly pulls his arm from Arthur’s grip and lugs himself up, needing to put some space between them now that Arthur’s soured his already poor mood, “It’s your fault I’m out here, anyway!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My fault? I didn’t tell you to go out here all by yourself. Now where’d you go getting a stupid idea like that in your head?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur stands up and crosses his arms over his chest but despite the roughness to his voice, John sees the downturn to his mouth and the squinted curiosity to his eyes. Arthur has always been the master of putting on a tough show while hidin’ his real intentions. Folk don’t cross Arthur because of his size and strength, but many don’t think he has the brain to match. That’s why Dutch loves him so much. He’s perfect for making you think one thing while he was doing something else entirely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John doesn’t like the way Arthur’s looking at him, like he’s concerned or something. The man knows what he’s gonna say and John knows that Arthur is gonna start sympathizing and making him feel all guilty for being so stupid. Jesus, John can’t win in anything, can he? He can get shit on by the whole camp, but he can’t be mad about it. That just doesn't add up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve had enough, Arthur. I didn’t sign up to be everybody’s plaything and I sure as hell didn’t sign up to say nothin’ about it either. I’m tired of it and I ain’t coming back until I’ve caught something to bring back. Then y’all can shut up and leave me the hell alone!” John doesn’t look up at Arthur when he says it, opting to look at the ground with clenched fists, but it just makes him feel like a child. Arthur always makes him feel like a child when he looks at John like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two boots step into his view and a heavy hand lands on his shoulder. When John looks up, Arthur is right there lookin’ back. He’s still got that frown on his face but his eyes have softened, gentle like, and it makes John feel even smaller even though they’re almost the same height. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur squeezes his shoulder when their eyes meet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“John, you know no one meant anything by it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Abigail sure did…” John interjected, defeated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that woman never knew the meaning of nice so the best you can do is ignore her, but the rest of the camp likes you, John. They like you a whole lot and meant nothing by what they said.” John drops his eyes again, wanting to ignore Arthur, but the man stops him with a finger under his chin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now you look at me, boy. You're a son to Dutch and Hosea, and you’re a brother to all the others, so you best pull your head out of your ass about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you? What am I to you?” John doesn’t know why he asks it, like he needs the answer to keep going, but he noticed the way Arthur didn’t mention himself and it sparked his curiosity a little too much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-” Arthur pulls back a bit, just enough to add an inch or more space between them, and his frown deepens. He’s not looking at John no more and John doesn’t know what to say. He ain’t never seen Arthur like this and it makes him want to know the answer all the more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur, what am I to you?” A queasiness in his gut builds up and he starts to regret his question the longer Arthur doesn’t answer him. John worries that maybe Arthur doesn’t care much at all for him and he came out here only because he was told. Maybe John is a nuisance after all but if he hears it from Arthur then it’ll hurt more than if it was someone else who said it. John doesn’t know why but Arthur’s opinion of him matters, it matters a whole damn lot more than he realized.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John takes a step back and there must have been something on his face because suddenly Arthur is suddenly stepping back in, both hands on John’s shoulders, and staring him dead in the eye. They share the silence, neither willing to break it as John watches Arthur’s mouth twitch as he visibly struggles over his next words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think it’s right what I feel.” Arthur’s not lookin’ at his eyes no more, instead droppin’ down a little before darting all over John’s face like he can’t settle on one spot. John furrows his brows, not sure how to take those words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you trying to say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur doesn’t reply, instead dropping his gaze low on John’s face before releasing an audible and heavy sigh, silently makin’ up his mind. Before John can say anything more, Arthur is diving in. Their mouths crash together in an unexpected kiss and John latches onto Arthur’s coat in shock. Arthur, on the other hand, doesn’t give John time to process and is already shoving his tongue past John’s lips and starts exploring his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John has his eyes clenched shut and feels a wobble in his knees as he lets Arthur kiss him. He’s only been kissed a few times, usually opting to get down and dirty instead of drawing things out, but he’s never been kissed like this, like he’s being devoured all at once. It’s overwhelming and rough, the chapness of both their lips scratching with their movements, but it’s also wet and slick and John feels like he’s drownin’ in Arthur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the older man tangles their tongues together and nips at his lips, Arthur starts to push John back until he hits the trunk of a nearby tree. Arthur pushes his whole self up against John, sharp buckles and hard muscle squeezing against John until he’s pinned and Arthur’s hands weave into his unruly hair and dig into his hip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John holds on like his life depends on it, letting Arthur lead him through the motions. He’s surprised by how much he likes this, since it ain’t something he’s ever imagined. He’d be blind if he didn’t acknowledge that the older man was handsome, more so than Arthur believed himself to be, but now that he’s in this situation with him, John’s body thrums with heat and jitters with nerves, excited. And with the way Arthur is moving his body against his, rubbing and rolling in the best of ways, barely letting an inch come between them, it’s becoming a little more obvious just how excited the both of them are.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur relents against John’s mouth only to duck down to suck and kiss at his neck, and John gasps audibly into the woods around them and his arms have somehow found their way around Arthur’s shoulders, locked and secure. Arthur pulls back suddenly with a frustrated growl, pupils blown wide as they stare down at John. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dammit, John,” It takes John a moment to realize that Arthur is talkin’, finally answering his earlier question, “You’re somethin’ else entirely.” Arthur pants between breaths “Do you want this?” John’s too breathless to answer. Arthur swoops in for another bruising kiss to his lips, pulling a surprising whine from John and making heat flood his cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me now or else I don’t know if I can stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t-” John swallows, surprising himself even further with his next words and even more when he tries to pull Arthur back in, “don’t stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s all it takes for Arthur to tear into John’s clothes, nearly pulling out buttons and buckles as he rips John’s shirt and suspenders from his body, leaving his chest bare, and gets to work on his pants. John can’t move as Arthur works the fabrics away, feeling small again as he stands half naked in front of Arthur who’s still fully clothed. When Arthur reaches into his pants and grabs a hold of his cock, John smacks his head back against the bark of the tree and moans, the feeling of callused skin on his heat launching shivers to every corner of his body. He spreads his legs a little, giving Arthur more room, and the man groans and dives back into his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, John, look at you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His strokes are punishing, fast and rough and twistin’ at the head that it leaves John gasping and whining into Arthur’s ear like the whores do over at the Valentine saloon. The man rumbles with him, accentuating perfect flicks of his wrist with harsh nips at John’s pulse, and the young man trembles and bucks under each assault. It’s not enough though, the fabric covering his lower half hinders Arthur enough for the older man to pull back and wrestle it down John’s legs. John’s completely bare to Arthur now, his cockhead wet and pink with heat against his tanned belly, scars littering his body from his thighs up to his face, and John quakes under Arthur’s eyes as they draw up and down his skin like he’s the wild beast Arthur’s been huntin’. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur pulls his hand away from John’s cock and runs it over the rest of him, feathering over his hip bones in a way that tickles John and then slides up to pinch at his nipples. John bites his lip and closes his eyes, but they fly back open when Arthur’s lips latch onto the nubs and suck. He cries out softly as they’re played with, his eyes darting back and forth between Arthur’s mouth and the fingers pinching the opposite bud. Another harsh bite pulls a shout from John, echoing through the trees, and Arthur pulls back hurriedly to kiss John once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Turn around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t wait for John to follow his command, turning the younger man’s body by his hips until John’s chest and face are pressed against the unrelenting bark. John wants to turn and look over his shoulder but Arthur, with his hands still on John’s waist, pulls him back until John’s ass is canted and on display for the man behind him and John scrambles his grip on the trunk to keep himself balanced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Art-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A slight smack rings in his ears and a sharp sting plays against the skin of his ass. Arthur’s hand rubs and massages at the cheek until a dull throb remains before rearing back and doing it again. John chokes on a cry, hips jerking to pull away but Arthur draws him back easily, playing with both cheeks and pulling them apart before letting go and watching them bounce back into place. The man leans in, covering John’s body with his own, and nips at his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The first one was for running away without telling anyone. The second was for getting yourself lost. And this-” the last smack is harder, reverberating around them and making John shake under his cry as his cock twitches, “is for makin’ me wait this god damned long to have you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, Arthur- please,” John’s head feels like mud, heavy and sludgy with a single minded focus on the man over him. Arthur hums.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm? Need something?” His voice is so deep, sounding like rocks grating against one another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur- Arthur, I’m sorry. Please-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, what? Use your words, boy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dammit Arthur, don’t make me beg. Just do it already!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John can feel the rumble of laughter in the barrel of the man’s chest against his back, vibrating through his own, much smaller one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur sucks at his neck and grabs John’s hips to pull them back against his own. John can feel through his pants the hard line of the older man’s cock. It’s big and thick, and a small pang of anxiety sprinkles through him at the thought of where that’s going. Arthur distracts him by diving a hand between his cheeks, aiming his fingers at John’s hole and circling until John stutters against it. The older man pulls back to mess with something in his pocket, leaving John aching with anticipation, before returning with slicked up fingers that slide easily over the furled ring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An airy moan escapes John when a finger pushes in, sliding home until the whole digit is inside and wiggling around. John tries to follow when the finger slides back out, but Arthur hushes him and works him through it until a second and a third can join. John has spread his legs again, and his cock stands tall and dripping between but Arthur won’t touch him there, not while his fingers fuck into his body steadily and hit deep enough to shake John to his core.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ar-Arthur, you gotta-!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right as he speaks, Arthur crooks his fingers and John falls heavily against the tree. He drops his head and sucks in a heaving breath and his cock leaks onto the ground below. He can’t describe the fullness he feels on just Arthur’s fingers. It’s nothing he’s ever felt before and by God, he don’t think he can last much longer like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John finally reaches back, twisting his body enough to grab Arthur’s forearm and turn his head to meet the man’s eyes. John ain’t never seen Arthur’s eyes so dark, and the light through the trees casts a near dangerous shadow over him, making the older man seem feral. Arthur’s fingers stop moving but remain inside and John’s heart beats heavily in his chest. He tries to catch his breath but Arthur spreads his fingers out at the last second and it makes him jerk against the stretch. When John grips tighter, Arthur stops teasing him. Instead, he leans over John and graces a surprisingly soft kiss against the corner of John’s mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t got all day.” He whispers to the older man, and Arthur quirks his lips, amused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We got as long as we want.” John huffs but can’t help but bite his lip. The thought of spending hours out here, succumbing to whatever Arthur wants to do to him- those kinds of thoughts are enough to shoot John over the edge, but John doesn’t have the patience right now. He’s too riled up, too sensitive. He doesn’t want to wait any longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John drops his grip on Arthur’s arm and reaches up as best he can to the collar of Arthur’s coat, annoyed that the damned thing’s still on but too needy to care, and draws the man in real close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You best hurry it up, old man, or I’ll do it myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John’s threat dies the second Arthur shoves his fingers deep into John and wrenches the sweetest cry from his lips. John has to blink back the sudden wetness in his eyes as Arthur rubs the pads of his fingers roughly over the sparking bundle inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You ain’t doin’ nothing, boy. This right here?” Arthur punctuates his words with another rough thrust into that spot and John sees stars, “This here is mine, but don’t you worry your pretty head, John. If you want it so bad, then I’ll give it to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John can’t see enough to watch Arthur reach down to his own pants and roughly pull at the ties, but he sure feels the sudden heat of skin slap on his ass as soon as Arthur’s cock is free. The older man’s cock is heavy, hot and thick where it sits, and John can feel the way his hole starts to clench around Arthur’s fingers. Arthur can feel it too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just can’t wait, now can you,” John gasps as Arthur pulls his fingers free, but there is no time to adjust before he feels the large girth of Arthur’s cock press in. Aided by slick, the head pops in easily and John's knees buckle. The older man catches John before he collapses and soothes him with soft kisses along his bare shoulders and neck, “There you go, good boy. Don’t got to wait any longer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur takes his time sliding the rest of his cock into John, rocking his hips as he goes to let the younger man adjust to the wide stretch of his hole. By the time he’s fully seated, John is a whining mess, hands scrabbling against the trunk and hole fluttering around the girth. Arthur drops his head against John’s shoulder and releases a groan into his skin. John, unable to hold anything in, whines right back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the next moment, Arthur is pulling his hips back, slowly drawing his cock out until just the head sits inside and then slides it back home, cursing under his breath. John can’t stop the noises falling from his lips, the slightest movement from Arthur lighting him on fire with pure pleasure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>-” Arthur draws back but this time, slams his hips forward, and John cries out as his body is rocked. The pace is relentless from that moment on and John can feel the knot in his gut pull tighter and tighter. Arthur is draped over his back, huffing in his ear and John whimpers with each smack of the older man’s hips against his reddened ass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John cries out the man’s name when Arthur reaches around his body to grab his cock, and he drops his head back as the hand roughly fists him in tandem with Arthur’s thrusts. John can barely close his mouth with the duel sensations, licking his dry lips but gasping between them when Arthur rubs the underside of his cock head, like he knows that’s the spot that drives the younger man crazy. John tries to meet Arthur’s thrusts, needing the man to sink deep into his body and split him in two, but Arthur is already moving brutally against him that John can’t keep up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He then tries to turn his head, feeling a sudden urge to meet the man’s eyes, but Arthur dives into his neck on a growl and after a wet lick, he bites down and John sees white. His hips try to twitch as cum shoots from his cock, but Arthur’s hold keeps him still as he rams harder into his body. John can’t keep himself up any longer as the last of his cum drools from the head, but before he can fall, Arthur presses his entire body against the tree and grinds roughly into his hole. John whimpers against the feeling of rough bark and the hand still gripping his cock, but Arthur growls deep in his belly and grinds one last time before heat fills John’s hole.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John can’t stop his hole from fluttering around Arthur’s cock as it milks all that the older man can give, and Arthur moans into John’s neck as he soothes the bite with kisses and licks. It takes a while for their heart beats to settle, and even longer for Arthur to finally step back and pull his cock from John’s body. John whimpers at the empty feeling, and does again when Arthur’s cum leaks out of him, but Arthur ignores him in favor of spinning his body back around and diving in for a sated yet heated kiss. John breathes heavily into it and lets Arthur take control. When the man pulls back, they stare tiredly at one another, letting their minds catch up to what they just shared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m thinking you're gonna need to carry me out of here.” That pulled a chuckle from Arthur, and easy as all else, he raises a hand and tucks John’s hair behind his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John relishes in Arthur’s tenderness before letting out a sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna get hell for leaving, ain’t I? Prized hero, Arthur, hunted me down and saved my ass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. The camp’ll have plenty to say, but don’t worry. I’ll let them know that you’re the best damn catch I ever made.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur’s dopey smile made John roll his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, Arthur.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if ya like :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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